Comfort
by LadieLazarus
Summary: Post-battle comfort. Sequel to Solace.


Title: Comfort  
Fandom: Harry Potter  
Pairing: Harry/Ginny  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Sequel to "Solace"  
A/N: So many people requested one, and so I did it. Also: I thought that some reviewers raised some excellent points.  
I think that Ginny is painfully blunt and unsentimental most of the time. I think that she was looking for sensory deprivation directly following the battle, and I think she's the type of person who has to mentally prepare herself to deal with any largely emotional situation, as that kind of naked sentiment makes her uncomfortable.

-

Ginny, like Ron, hates silence. Harry figures that, as the youngest Weasley children, they're the least used to it.

And so, it's no surprise that she speaks almost immediately after the sun streaming through the window of the dormitory wakes them both from their deep sleep. Harry barely has time, in fact, to revel in the fact that he is waking up beside her. He's actually only just managed to put his glasses on.

"You should have closed the curtain." She sighs. "Now we're awake."

"True enough. I could close it now." He nods.

"I should probably go downstairs." Her tone is regretful, yet resigned.

"Yeah." He tightens the arm that has apparently remained draped over her waist all night. Harry doesn't remember the last time that he slept without tossing and turning all over the place.

"I should be with the family. There's stuff that needs—"

When she breaks, he's ready for it. He's been ready for it since she appeared in his room last night. He holds her, and murmurs soothing things in her ear, and runs his fingers through her hair. She sobs, cries, and speaks in half-sentences.

Eventually, she straightens, wiping her eyes on the hem of the t-shirt that she stole from him the previous evening.

"I'm sorry," she says.

He shakes his head.

"Don't be, love."

"I hate crying. I've been doing too much of it this year."

"I know what you mean," he nods. He really does, too.

"I had to get it done before I see Mum, though. I can't cry in front of her. She's going to need us."

Truth be told, he's impressed with her strength. He also knows that it's really only a matter of time until everything hits him, and he needs her to comfort him.

Not now, though. This is about her.

"Yeah. I reckon she's not going to be keen on letting you and your brothers out of her sight."

"Please. My brothers are useless with this stuff. I was talking about you and me, doofus." Ginny shakes her head.

"Me? No. I... I shouldn't." Harry is feeling around, in his head, for the right words, but he can't think of what they are.

"Eloquent," she snorts. "You really don't get it, do you? You're family, Harry."

He appreciates the sentiment more than she'll ever know, but he can't shake the feeling that, as much as he's felt it, he's not a Weasley.

(Although, even as he thinks that, he can almost feel Mrs. Weasley smack him on the back of the head.)

"No. Not now. You need to be with them."

Ginny sits up, now. The blanket falling to her waist, and Harry thinks to himself that she looks better in that t-shirt than he ever did.

"Harry don't be an idiot. My mother is going to want you around, Ron is going to want you around, and, most importantly, I want you around."

"I don't think that anyone is going to want to see too much of me. Not right now. This whole thing was— " Harry's objection is cut off by the sharp sting of her hand against his cheek.

He's never actually been slapped before. He's been hit, beaten, hexed, and kicked, but never slapped. He wonders if it always hurts that badly, or only when Ginny does it.

"Stop it." She's angry. "Stop it right now. I am _not _going to listen to you whinge about how this is your fault. It isn't, and I will not tolerate you blaming yourself for yet another thing that isn't your fault! I have lost my brother," her voice cracks slightly, but she doesn't stop, "and we've both lost entirely too many friends, because that prejudiced, deluded, homicidal maniac ordained it. Not because of anything you did. The only thing that you're guilty of is making sure that it never happens again!" She takes his face in her hands. "Got it?"

He doesn't suppose that there's any acceptable response aside from the affirmative, and so he nods.

"We love you. _I _love you, Harry."

"I love you, too."

"Good." It's a watery smile, but still a smile. "Now, here's the plan. We shower, we go downstairs, and we help each other get through this, because it's going to be a bitch no matter what, and I refuse to deal with it while I feel so utterly disgusting." She looks at him critically. "Also, you could probably stand to shave, but that can wait, I guess."

"I can shave while you're in the shower." As soon as he says it, he hopes that she's not bothered by his suggestion that he be in the bathroom while she showers. He doesn't think she will, at this point, but he blushes anyway.

"That might prove difficult."

"It might?"

"I don't really feel like being alone right now." She shrugs. "I was sort of thinking that you might be willing to come with me."

"Oh." Realization dawns, slowly, as usual. Harry fleetingly wonders if he'll always be about two seconds behind Ginny. "But... Don't we have to..."

"Harry, like I said, this is going to be a bitch. It's completely selfish, but I don't think that I want to deal with it for a bit, yet." She shrugs, and climbs out of bed. "I think that, at this point, I'd rather be glad that I'm alive for a few more minutes than mourn for those who aren't."

"Oh."

Ginny cocks her head to the side, as if sizing him up.

"Do you not want—"

"Yeah. I'm seventeen. There are pretty much no circumstances in which I _don't_ _want_." Harry shakes his head, and he's relieved to hear her snort of laughter. "I just didn't want you to feel like... I dunno..." He sighs, trying really hard to make some semblance of sense out of his jumble of thoughts and emotions. He finally manages to come up with a rough summation of everything that's bouncing around in his head: "I just want you to have whatever you need. I want to be there for you."

Ginny bends down to kiss him again. "I love you," she says. He doesn't really think that he'll ever get tired of hearing that. "I wish that I could totally fix all the shit that's been unfairly done to you, but I can't. What I can do, though, is drag you into the shower with me so that, for at least a few moments, life seems a little bit fairer to both of us before reality kicks our asses again."

He takes a few seconds to consider the logic of what she's saying before he lets her pull him out of bed and into the bathroom. It is both astounding and a bit amazing to him that she's concerned about him when so much is going badly for her right now.

He'll stop being amazed by that eventually. It's just that, while at this point Harry Potter can feel love—has, in fact, always been able to love others; as Dumbledore said, it is his greatest strength—but he just doesn't really know, yet, what it's truly like to _be _loved.

He's getting closer.


End file.
